November 28, 2007

Muli shani bonse? Hello! Again, I know it's been far too long since the last time I've written. Not a whole lot has happened over the past few months. The rainy season is now here, and I must say that with the coming of the rains also came an unexpected rejuvination of my spirit. There is something about the smell, the new humidity, the cool mornings, and the puffy clouds in the sky that remind me of how much I really do love it here. Maybe it's because it brings me back to the beginning of rainy season last year, when I was just moving into my new hut and I was really enthusiastice about several of the projects I was working on. Or maybe it even brings me back to 2 rainy seasons ago, to my initial arrival in Zambia... Those 1st few months were the end of the rains, and I was definitely full of excitement and soaking up the beauty and culture of Africa back then. Regardless of the reasoning, I'm thankful that the rains are here and that they've begun to wash away the feelings of apathy that have tried to creep in this year.

Alright, I hope you enjoy reading through the following excerpts from my life. I suppose there is a common theme to a few of them- babies. You'll see what I mean...

Surprise in the Toilet

One day in mid-October I returned home after a little time away to find that most of the mama goats in my village had given birth to their babies. The ones that hadn't delivered yet looked miserable and ready to pop... Goats, goats, everywhere!

That afternoon I noticed a small crowd of adult men and women huddled around my pit latrine. What's so interesting about my toilet? What's going on? I wondered. I walked over to discover that a baby goat had fallen down the hole! A couple men lifted the grass thatch off and placed it on the ground (...my topless out-house looked so strange, and I actually felt a little embarrassed having all my neighbors hanging around the spot where I poop.) A long bamboo pole was lowered into the hole. Then a rope was also lowered, and before I knew it (literally, I was momentarily distracted by a bug or something and when I looked up...) they somehow hoisted up the baby goat.

He was tiny and black and COVERED in poop. He bleated and cried so loud. He couldn't have been more than 2 days old, and I imagined he was traumatized, screaming for his mother. I would be too if I had just been trapped in a shit cave, waiting to die. Poor little guy!

Return of the Seki Seki

Goats, goats, goats. When I signed up to come to Africa I never anticipated that goats would be the #1 animal I'd have to deal with- maybe snakes or crocs or, I don't know, monkeys? But not goats. Most nights they loiter around my house and wake me up at least a 1/2-dozen times. I don't even remember what a full night's sleep feels like!

One night a few weeks ago I was on the brink of goat murder... I got out of bed around 2:00 in the morning and quietly tip-toed to my front door. I was preparing to fling open the door and scream at the goats who like to congregate on my front porch. (This sometimes scares them away at least for the rest of the night). These obnoxious goats have these annoying, intolerably loud goat conversations with each other- They sound like crazy people yelling, burping, hiccupping, and crying in gibberish... but this story isn't about goats at all, it's about a much smaller annoying animal... the seki seki. As I was getting ready to swing open the front door and frighten the goats to death, I saw 2 seki seki scurrying around my rafters. (You guys remember the seki seki?... They are little grey rats with big eyes and fluffy squirrel tails). When I awoke the next morning I found a pile of shredded carrot on my desk- I must have dropped a piece of a carrot on the floor the day before and the seki seki found it and had a nice midnight snack on my desk...

About a week later I was in bed sleeping when I felt something crawling over my feet. I instinctively kicked it away and continued sleeping, letting it become part of my dream. After a few moments, I jerked myself awake and grabbed my glasses and headlamp. What was that?! I momentarily freaked out. Then I saw the little seki seki scurrying up my mosquito net and struggling to find the hole he must have climbed in through. At 1 point he almost fell back into my bed... I squealed and huddled up by my pillow. He finally managed to free himself from the confines of my net... However, he didn't leave my house.

I must have gotten up 4 times that night, trying to scare him away. He kept walking on the tops of my walls and climbing in my grass roof. I tried shining my light on him and yelling... didn't work. I tried shining my light and calling him a ridiculous string of profane names and other obscenities... still didn't work. I took my axe and smacked the wall next to him, making a grunt that sounded kinda like "wuh!!" (I must have looked like a primitive man with his 1st tool!) This caused him to scatter, but he'd return within seconds. Finally, I took some heavy duty mosquito repellant and sprayed him. That worked!...

2 mornings later, as I was getting dressed I heard a crackling, shuffling sound... Then a bunch of little squeaks (like baby birds). I could tell it was comig from just above my head, so I looked up and started to investigate my roof. Directly on top of me I could see a big (maybe 6 inches long) seki seki moving in the tight space between my clear plastic and the grass of my roof. I watched as the seki seki started nudging a small pile of bright pink babies... They immediately began to squeal and wiggle around. There were a few blots of blood smeared on the plastic sheeting around them. She must have just given birth the night before! A little to the left of the seki seki family I could see a shredded up, white, cottony clump that had an unmistakable turquoise-blue string at the corner of it... The seki seki apparently stole a tampon from me and used it to make a nest in my roof!! Sure enough, the mama seki started transferring the babies 1-by-1 to the protection of the nest.

I decided that my new tenants probably weren't going anywhere anytime soon, so I waited until that evening to have my neighbor come check it out. "Ba Friday, I have a problem. Come inside my house," I said. He came inside, and since the sun was in the process of setting, I had to find my headlamp and shine it up at the nest. "Do you see? There are animals in my roof." "Ahh..." he replied, "RATS." He smiled and had this look on his face that made me believe that he had a long-standing vendetta with the entire rat kingdom and he was about to savor this opportunity to exact revenge.

"What can we do?" I asked. Thinking out loud, he said something about tearing the plastic- but then the roof would leak. Then he said to leave them there and when they get bigger and start to crawl around my house, I could put out rat poison. Not an option. I made that clear.

Then, without even telling me what he was doing, he took my stool and positioned it beneath the nest. Then he placed a 1/2-empty jerry can of water on top of the stool and climbed on top. I moved around so my headlamp was still shining on the nest. He then found an opening where 2 sheets of plastic came together and proceeded to squeeze his arm inside. Within seconds he had the mama seki in his hand. As she tried to maneuver away from him and out of his grasp, he took her head between his thumb and forefinger and applied pressure until she was dead... He pulled her out of the roof and tossed her out onto my porch. (Of course, there were a couple kids out there and so a small chorus of "oooh" and "yangu!" came from outside).

Next, he reached back inside and gathered up the entire clump of cotton- containing all of the babies- and tossed it outside as well. One of the babies slipped out and was squirming and crying on the floor by my feet. I hated knowing that this day-old animal the size of my thumbnail was about to die... As Friday was about to step down from the jerry can, he called out, "Ah! Another one... A big one!" He reached back into the roof, squeezed the life out of what I presume was the daddy seki and tossed it on the porch.

We went outside. The kids were standing around staring at the babies as they struggled on the porch. (I was actually quite surprised that they weren't playing with them). We counted the family and -including the stranded baby that I made Friday scoop up out of my house- there were 11 babies total and 2 adults. He gathered them all up, then (very matter-of-factly) simply tossed every one out into the grass next to my dishrack. I could still hear the squeaking babies.

"The rats eat the cloth. They eat the clothing," Friday told me. Then he simply walked away. So did the kids. Everyone just left after the killing spree was over. It was bizarre.

All in a Hard Day's Work

So a lot of people have been asking about how my work projects have been going lately... Well, I recently completed a 4-day workshop at a nearby school where I was able to train 16 local teachers and community leaders on how to promote HIV-awareness in their community. It was a huge success! It's 1 of my Peace Corps accomplishments that I am really proud of.

I've also been meeting with a local farmer and his wife to teach about growing and cooking with soya beans. They, in turn, are planning to teach about soya beans to their local development group... The library project I've been collaborating on is moving forward steadily, although there have been quite a few unexpected turns. I have joined projects with another volunteer in the area, and the library is now part of a Community Recreation Center, which will be focused on activities and HIV-awareness programs for local youth. I am very optimistic about this change in plans and I'm looking forward to seeing some real progress very soon.

Well, thanks for following along with this very belated journal entry... There will probably be an even longer period of time between this 1 and the next because I am planning to go on a much-anticipated trip to Mozambique in December/January. So, I am wishing all of you a wonderful Christmas holiday and Happy New Year. Stay well!

Shalenipo,

Erin